


The Swimmer

by AstroNella



Series: You Look Good In Those [1]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroNella/pseuds/AstroNella
Summary: Rimmer's made the swimming squad aboard Red Dwarf, meaning Lister has to finish his shift alone. Seeing Rimmer training in the pool causes Lister to regard him in a new light.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Series: You Look Good In Those [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758784
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	The Swimmer

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea months ago, but it's only now, with a break in my studies, that I've got round to writing this fic.  
> CAMAC: Combined American Military Astronaut Corps.  
> Set pre-series, pre-accident.

“Hurry along Lister, we need to get all these finished by 2pm.”

“Two? We're on till four, we're always on till four during the day.”

“Correction, miladdo. You're on till four. I'm done at two o'clock. It's Wednesday, which means my training afternoon, so you're on till four alone. Don't forget you've got all the leisure services floors to do so you'll need the big trolley. And no slacking, there's a lot to get done in two hours.”

Lister grumbled to himself. Ever since Rimmer won a place in the ship's swimming squad, it was all he talked about. Training. His latest personal best. Parker, the head coach who spotted him at the tryouts. His team-mates, who were all 'such a great bunch'. _I bet they're not_ , Lister thought. _I bet they're wondering why that smeghead of a Second Tech is on their team. It won't help him become an officer._

_On the other hand_ , Lister thought, _if Rimmer's spending so much time training it means I have to spend less time putting up with him._ His mood brightened. Finishing work alone was fine by him, he was sure he'd get the work done quicker by himself, without Rimmer finding fault with the way he loaded the snacks into the machines or pushed the trolley into the elevators. 

Wednesday training also meant more than two hours of Rimmer-free work, it meant he probably wouldn't see Rimmer until nine or ten o'clock that evening. Training began with an hour in the gym, then a few hours in the pool, followed by a team takeout meal together, and was rounded off by a lecture or classroom work. If that was Rimmer's idea of fun, Lister reasoned, let's hope he works his way up to team captain. 

*

Lister was right. He'd almost finished restocking the vending machines on the leisure services floors and it was barely 3.30pm. He only had the sports foyer machines left to restock. They wouldn't take long, then he could have a few precious hours to himself with his guitar. He pushed the trolley along the semi-laminated flooring, stopping at each machine to restock drinks cartons, snacks, and chocolate bars. _I should do this on my own more often_ , he thought. Barely five minutes later, he had only the machines along the viewing gallery to restock. 

It didn't take Lister long to restock the half-dozen vending machines up in the viewing gallery. Funny how no-one watching sport likes to eat anything healthy while they do so, he mused – the nearest thing they had to anything healthy was the watered-down fruit juice pouches or the cans of diet soda. With restocked machines, and a trolley almost empty except for empty packaging, Lister turned round to head back down the viewing gallery to the elevator and back to the supply office. 

He'd got back to the elevator, and parked the trolley at the end of the balcony by the railings, while looking out over the fake potted plants to the swimming pool. A small group of men were swimming up to the end by the starting blocks and hauling themselves out of the water. He recognised one of them immediately – the first one out was Arthur Yin, one of Kochanski's CAMAC friends. There were a few others he knew slightly – Hendriksen, a metallurgist, and McDougal, a software development officer, plus a few more he didn't know. 

Lister heard the faint sound of a whistle, and saw a figure shimmying through the water from the far end of the pool. He cut the surface around a third of the way down, and continued to power through the water, long muscular limbs propelling him forward. He didn't let up on his speed or technique until he reached the wall, at which point he stopped still, looking up at his team-mates. A coach came bustling up to the crowd, holding a stopwatch, and stopped to talk to the swimmer. Whoever he was, he'd obviously done well, judging by the smile that broke out on his face and those of his team-mates. 

It wasn't until the swimmer hauled himself out of the water that Lister recognised him as his bunkmate. His smeghead of a bunkmate, who couldn't refill a vending machine without turning it into a lecture on the optimum stacking of bags of dry-roasted peanuts, had obviously just recorded another personal best in training, to the delight of himself and his friends. Wait – Rimmer had friends? Evidently he did. They might not know what a smeghead he was like to work with, but he didn't seem to be much of one when he was part of the swimming team. Lister watched them, talking and laughing, Rimmer included. _Well_ , he thought, _this is new_. 

The coach blew his whistle again and the swimmers, led by Rimmer, walked alongside the end of the pool to stand by the starting blocks. Lister watched, wide-eyed, unable to look anywhere but at Rimmer's glistening chest, noticing the movement of his muscles and ribs as he walked. And those knee-length shorts – the usual sort of competition swimwear men had been wearing since the 21st century, but he'd never noticed them clinging so artfully to anyone before. They appeared to be of a rather thin material, given how they accentuated every curve of Rimmer's manhood. Lister was transfixed. He'd seen Rimmer in his usual regulation underwear countless times in their quarters so he was familiar with Rimmer's general proportions in that department, if not the detail. But seeing him in the soft, shiny fabric of his swimming shorts – even at this distance – was another thing altogether. 

The swimmers paused next to their starting blocks, Rimmer turning to face the man in the next lane to him, giving Lister a perfect view of his firm buttocks, the wet fabric clinging to the pert muscles. The man in the next lane was sharing a joke with Rimmer, and reached a hand across to quickly ruffle the top of Rimmer's hair, shaking a few beads of water free. Rimmer ran a finger along the back of the waistband of his shorts, straightening them out a little. Lister gulped as he realised how much he wanted to see Rimmer pull those shorts down to give him a view of that beautiful arse, and how much he wanted to be the one to ruffle Rimmer's hair. 

Lister leaned against the wall, turning away from the pool. _Holy smeg_ , he thought, _where did all this come from?_ He had always known that Rimmer could easily be regarded as handsome, smeghead or not. And he knew he was fit and trim and could wear an outfit well, even though he had rarely seen him wear anything non-regulation. Was he imagining this? He sneaked a look back at the pool – even though there was no-one else around – and realised he was right. Rimmer was handsome, sexy, amazing-looking. He stayed watching as the swimmers climbed the starting blocks and dived into the water to the sound of the coach's whistle. Lister took a deep breath, and headed to the elevator and back to the supply office. 

*

It didn't take Lister long to get back to the bunkroom after signing his trolley and its contents back in. He hit the keypad to lock the door, rushing to the sink to splash cool water on his face. It had little effect, the heat flushing his cheeks only partly dissipating, but the heat in his groin building significantly. All the way back to his quarters, he'd been unable to think of anything else but what he'd just seen. Throwing himself into his bunk, he tried a few deep breaths to clear his head, but it was useless. His mind was full of images of Rimmer's body, and his body was reacting quite markedly to these thoughts. 

Resigning himself to the notion that there was only one thing to do, Lister swallowed down a gulp of air that ended with a half-sob. _It's OK_ , he tried to tell himself. _It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean you love him, or even like him. It's OK to want him like this, it's OK to have him fill your mind, he doesn't need to know how you feel. Not that you feel anything apart from wanting him._

Pulling down his trousers and underwear, Lister freed his erection, giving himself a few cursory strokes before swallowing hard again. _He won't ever know. This is just between your mind and your body._ Lister thought back to the look on Rimmer's face when he was smiling. He imagined running his fingers through those curls, kissing those lips, working his way down the side of Rimmer's neck, kissing and nibbling a line down to his collarbone. He imagined running his hands over Rimmer's firm chest, tracing every undulation of muscle and ribcage. _Oh, Rimmer._ Stroking himself firmly, building up a rhythm, Lister's mind saw him run his hands over Rimmer's stomach and round his waist, pushing his swimming shorts down, freeing his erection. 

Bobbing his head down, he licked a length along Rimmer's hardness, letting his hands wander to those perfect buttocks to pull him in, sucking Rimmer closely. _Oh, Arnold_. Lister moaned, his cock leaking, his mind overwhelmed by sensation, the hardness and taste of Rimmer's cock in his mouth. He could feel his orgasm building as his mind was overtaken by Rimmer's thrusting into his mouth, his legs trembling, moaning Lister's name. His heart pounding, Lister thrust into his hand, throwing his head back with a yell as he trembled and spurted over his fingers. 

Feeling his breathing calm down and his brow cooling, Lister lay still, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He had just fantasised about sucking off his bunkmate and it had given him one of the most powerful self-administered orgasms of his life. What if Rimmer did reciprocate his feelings, whatever they were? _Not necessarily a bad idea_ , he mused, as a final image of him kissing Rimmer's lips flew through his mind. _Not likely to happen, though_ , he decided. He bounded down from the bunk, heading to the bathroom to clean himself up, then returned to his bunk and lit a cigarette. 

Lister tried to be objective. _Rimmer is an attractive man_ , he reasoned, smoking his cigarette down. _Very attractive, from some angles. What if_ – no, Lister thought, quelling his imagination. He'd no reason to believe Rimmer would suddenly want to fall into bed with him, even if they suddenly started to become more friendly towards each other. 

He stubbed out his cigarette. Curling up to face the back wall, he tried to clear his mind and give in to the sleepiness that was creeping up on him. He would see his smeghead bunkmate again in a few hours, but until then, he could dream of his sexy swimmer of a bunkmate whenever he liked.


End file.
